


Butterfly

by lostinthesounds



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellarke, F/M, Happy Ending, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Sort Of, season 6 spec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-04 16:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17901734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthesounds/pseuds/lostinthesounds
Summary: On the new planet, Clarke feels like she isn’t apart of the group. She has nobody, so she chooses to turn to something familiar, to something that helped her survive for six years.She doesn’t have a radio, Raven wouldtotallynotice if she took it from the Eliguis ship.What she does have is a pen and paper, so she decides to write a goodbye letter to the one person that mattered most to her. In a quest to befriend the new people on the binary planet, she leaves behind a letter. A letter to Bellamy Blake.





	1. all we painted was a moment

**Author's Note:**

> What’s up Bellarke fandom. 
> 
> I missed you guys. 
> 
> This was originally something that I wasn’t going to put much though into because I was just deprived of content and missed writing these two more than I thought. But, here we are! This response to this fic has been crazy in the past two days, so thank you so much. P.S I might be changing the count of chapters as I write them, once again not expecting the response and now my mind is running on ideas and ways I could develop the story further. So please enjoy! (The title is inspired by Kehlani and her new mixtape called “While We Wait” and the first three chapters are titled with lyrics from the song, footsteps.) 
> 
> It’s a song about reminiscing on your past with someone, and come on....that’s bellarke.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Clarke takes comfort in writing notes to Bellamy, before she meets the people of the binary planet. 
> 
> _Dear Bellamy, I thought this whole ‘writing a letter thing’ would be easier if i wrote to you. But it’s not_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really just a spur of the moment kind of fic. Enjoy! (Part 2 is coming very soon!) <3

After a few minutes of digging around in the main space, she found a pen that was almost out of black ink and took multiple swipes to have it slide against paper easily, but it was the best thing she had and could take with her. 

 

She found it in the corner of the Eliguis ship, most likely falling to the floor from one of Diyoza’s notebooks that were still sprawled on desks. Clarke only knows that because once she grabbed the pen she had gone through one of the older woman’s notepads; they were filled with drawings, plans, weapon designs and things of that nature. Luckily, a few pages were left blank in the end so she rips them out softly and folds them so that they fit in her inside pockets.  

 

After all, nobody was paying her any attention. It was almost too easy to strap herself into the seat with the pen stuffed awkwardly into her jacket, and watch as every face filled with worry and excitement at the same time. 

 

 _Nobody cared_. 

 

A single look at her old friends, at Bellamy and she realized something right away. 

 

They didn’t even send her a second glance, and for the first time, she didn’t feel the sadness in her heart. It was always there, the deep wrench in her chest as she saw them interact and talk about things she had no knowledge of that makes her cry at night. If they didn’t care about her, then what harm will it be to them if she explored the new planet without them? 

 

Clarke thinks she doesn’t matter to anyone else but Madi, so she keeps her hands tight around the belt straps and hopes for the best. 

 

(That’s the only reason why she doesn’t see Bellamy Blake trying to sneak a glance in her direction, biting down on his bottom lip like he’s trying to understand her. It was easy before, but he doesn’t know her like _before_.) 

 

* * *

The first night on the binary planet was calm. 

 

Clarke didn’t talk much, she kept to herself even when Miller wanted to spark a conversation about the safety of eating certain berries or plants on a foreign planet. Even then, she herself had no idea but it was a harsh reminder to know that people only confided in her when they needed to know information. 

 

When her friends came back down from space the first time, it seemed like it was all she was good for. 

 

“I’m gonna head in.” She announces to the small group, “I’m tired.” 

 

The warmth from the fire was enough to distract the blush on her cheeks when Bellamy and Echo looked at her, still entangled in eachother’s arms. She looked daze, and Clarke didn’t waste more than a second looking at Bellamy who had his brows raised. 

 

“Goodnight.” She stands after steadily setting her hands on her thighs, and doesn’t lock eyes with anyone. If she wasn’t so deep in her thoughts, she swore she heard someone’s breath hitch like they wanted to say something to her as she walked away, but she clarified further, “It was a long day and you guys are enjoying yourselves out here.”

 

Her words emotionless as people go back to their conversations. 

 

She turns her head to see what she’s leaving behind to seek a safe haven in her makeshift tent, she already knows she won’t sleep, but she sees Bellamy’s head perk up when she does....Clarke convinced herself that he’s fine. 

 

He’s more than perfectly fine without her presence around. 

 

But she _wasn’t_ fine with leaving his, no matter how alone she feels. There was a time where he made her feel involved and cared for...but she knows it’s in the past. She’s been alone for a long time anyways, nothing has changed. 

 

(She was foolish to think things would change when he came back to Earth, back to her. She was foolish to think _he_ wouldn’t change.) 

 

* * *

 

 ~~ _Dear Mom_~~ , 

 

 ~~ _Dear Jackson_~~ , 

 

 ~~ _Dear Murphy, I feel like we click_~~ — 

 

 ~~ _Dear Mom, I love you_~~ — 

 

 _Dear Bellamy, I thought this whole ‘writing a letter thing’ would be easier if i wrote to you. But it’s not, not even one bit when it’s **about** you_. 

 

Clarke shakes the pen twice so that she could start writing through blurry vision - It was then when she hears him start to laugh with the others outside - and the feeling of loneliness that seeps through her like a gust of wind. 

 

 

* * *

 

_How is it possible to feel like I'm alone when I have you a few feet away?  I waited six years for you to come back, I know that Madi told you about the radio calls so I won't even mention those. It hurts to think about how many things I don't know about you Bellamy, like how was it back on the Ark? Were you happy? I'm sure Echo makes you happy, and I'm so glad you have her because she cares so much about you. You deserve to feel that, to feel how much someone loves you. When you read this, hopefully I'll be long gone so I won't hear you reprimand me for a decision I know I'm making, and I also know that if you come after me....I won't leave. It was really difficult to leave you behind in Polis, it was a choice I didn't want to make. You don't care about what happens to me, so I'm sparing you the goodbyes and one less person to worry about. It's not like you worry about me anymore and I guess I should've expected that after six years. I messed up. It's my fault, I wasn't thinking when you came back to Earth._

 

* * *

 

 

"I volunteer" Clarke says, both of her hands flat against the table. She was back on the Eliguis ship after the intel mission that her group had done a few days prior, and she would rather have the option to leave and distance herself away from the people she used to know. "I was on the mission, I know what the terrain looks like." 

 

It was a small room with a square table, stuck in the middle of the main hall and cryo pods. It was the best place to meet together to talk about the idea of sending multiple people back out to search for any sign of others who live nearby. Next to her, she had Miller and Diyoza who were just as interested in joining the mission as she was; and it was the only reason why she volunteered first because they weren't Bellamy or Raven who were on the opposite side of the table. Those were the two people she had the most tension with, and she didn't want to be near them if it wasn't necessary. 

 

_(If they didn't care to talk to her, why should she?)_

 

Bellamy pipes in, "Let me tag along, I was there too." 

 

"If they're going, I wanna join" Miller adds, his voice urgent as he shrugs. "The more the merrier." 

 

It's silent for a few seconds, and Clarke knows she's being selfish but she wants to argue against Bellamy not going on the day trip. The ship was getting stuffy, hot and crowded with more and more people getting up from cryo sleep...she had to get out. She swallows thickly, "Raven said she would rather have two people go on the trip, so we have to narrow it down." 

 

Raven eyes her up and down, hesitant to get inbetween the conversation. With the main control keyboard in her hands, she gestures for Miller to speak when he thinks of an idea. He suggests, "Clarke is the one that knows nature, if there's plants we've been before on Earth on this planet, she's the only one who could identify them. Plus, she's a great negotiator and that's gonna be handy when we meet people." 

 

"Okay." Raven says simply, agreeing with him and dismissing the way Bellamy sighs. "You guys go pack up then." 

 

"Who are you sending?" The older man asks, obviously curious in the way he leans into her side. 

 

"Miller and Clarke because he's _right_." 

 

"I wanted to go, Raven, It could be dangerous-" 

 

"Listen," Raven harshly whispers, eyes bold. "He wants to go with her, so let them go. I'm sure they could handle themselves" It still doesn't sooth either of their worries, "They'll have a radio to contact us, do you feel better?" 

 

He shakes his head in response, looking down to the floor before taking a long look at Clarke who is talking with Miller about their mission together. _She didn't want to go with him_. 

 

"You know I don't" He finally replies, and walks past Raven to exit the room and Bellamy doesn't look back. 

 

* * *

 _When I first saw you, I knew you would be trouble. I was told I had to lead a bunch of teenagers, and here you came along walking around like you knew how to handle a group of rowdy kids who just wanted to live without authority. It was hard, I wanted you to be on my side and agree with me on the choices we had to make as leaders. We were trying to do what was right for our people, but after a while, I realized I was doing what was right for you. I tried to save you so many times, at the Drop Ship, Mount Weather and even Praimfaya. Maybe it was for the best when I figured out that the more times I lost you, the longer it’ll take for us to act like we used to. I don’t know what you’ll say to that, but I do know that we can’t act like the people we don’t even know anymore. You’ve changed for the better, and I haven’t_. 

 

 _P.S — I’m sorry I couldn’t let you go with me on the day trip, I didn’t want you to feel obligated to go just because I volunteered first. It’s for the best, you aren’t the one who wants to risk their life for a person they still care about_. 

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke was laying in a blanket that’s sprawled on the floor, not getting much sleep since she has to get up in a few hours to travel with Miller. She usually didn’t get a lot of rest nowadays, it was something she was used to. 

 

It gave her more time to write. 

 

Something she’s come to love. 

 

She grabs her few pieces of paper that’s hiding under her jacket, swiping the pen from the pillowcase and writes a sentence that’s been in her mind ever since she _realized_ Bellamy had looked in her direction the other day in the meeting, right before he walked out. 

 

 _I miss the way you used to look at me_. 

 

She adds on, _Like I was everything you wanted, not everything you know you’ve lost_. 

 

When her head hits the pillow, her papers back in their hiding places and her pen away, it was silent. 

 

Sometimes she wishes that she could yell in Bellamy’s face and say that she hasnt changed, that she still would do anything to protect him. Even if it meant turning him away so that she could try and forget about the way he mak— 

 

Clarke shakes her head to rid herself of finishing that thought, forcing herself to close her eyes and fall asleep. It doesn’t come easy that night, and it ends up feeling like all she’s doing is keeping her eyes shut for a long period of time and not actually sleeping. (She decides to add it onto the list of the worst nights of her life.) 

 

And she’s had a lot of those.

 

* * *

“ _Miller_ ,” Clarke warns through gritted teeth as she doesn’t struggle with the person holding onto her wrists. “Don’t do anything stupid.” 

 

He was in the same position, and she was always willing to throw herself in front of others to protect them. He was a few feet away, and they were _miles_ from the Eliguis ship. A long way back, she knows. 

 

They had just been stopped by a group of people. They wore dark clothing and had guns propped on their shoulders like they were ready to fight two foreigners who had _nothing_. The next thing Clarke knew, she was being held with her hands behind her back and forced to stand still. 

 

The bag on her shoulders was digging into her skin, and she winced. “We don’t want any trouble, we were actually looking for survivors.” 

 

“Survivors of _what_?” A man asks. 

 

Another woman props the gun higher on her shoulder, finger hesitant on the trigger. She looks confused, “We’ve been on this planet for centuries. This is our home.” 

 

Miller decides to get involved, trying to fight against his restraints with a clenched jaw. Clarke sends him a warning glare, “ _Well_ , our home got destroyed a hundred and thirty years ago and our ship ended up here.” 

 

She flinches when she hears the reload of a gun, “ _Earth_.” Clarke repeats with a sigh, noticing when multiple sets of eyes widen in shock and surprise. “Our home was Earth, and it was destroyed.” 

 

The man who spoke before, motions behind him to get another person’s attention and suddenly, the group makes way for another man to walk through. 

 

He’s taller than most, hair long that rests on his shoulders, and a pistol in his holder. Clarke stays still, not wanting to make any sudden move. 

 

“You’re from Earth?” The tall man asks curiously, his brows furrowed. “That’s not possible, that planet burned a century ago. That’s what _our_ ancestors escaped.” 

 

“It’s gone.” Clarke adds on, “It burned two more times after you left.” 

 

“How did you survive?” 

 

“We’ve been in cryo sleep for over a hundred years.” Clarke says, and then the guy who’s holding her lets go and she shakes her arms. It wasn’t comfortable to be held back, “Our people have been trying to find any sign of life for the past week.” 

 

The man out stretched his hand and steps closer, “What’s your name?” 

 

“Clarke.” She says simply, then she’s points to Miller. “That’s Nathan Miller.” 

 

“I’m Russel.” He smiles, “I’m the leader of this civilization.” 

 

Her brows raise, “ _Civilization_?”

 

It was her turn to be surprised, stepping backwards to distance herself. She’s relieved to not be part of the only group of people on a planet, or be the only person living in one, but she has no idea who these people are. She’s hesitant in grabbing his hand, realizing that she needs to be allies with these people if she wants to survive. If her people had a chance at surviving, she would figure it out. 

 

When he reaches for Miller’s hand, she speaks up, “How many people live here?” 

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Russel suggests, looking around to his people behind him with the edges of his mouth turning upwards. He’s smiling wide but welcoming, “Only a few thousand.” 

 

Clarke lets herself act shocked, and she looks to her side to find Miller with the same expression. “We have two hundred.” 

 

“That’s good for us.” Russel says, “We have the space and I’m sure your people will love it.” He motions for Clarke to follow him, “Come on.” 

 

“We’ve already been gone from our ship for longer than they wanted, we should head back.” She remembers, and hikes the bag higher on her shoulder. Making sure she knows what’s her’s and what belongs to her. 

 

“Okay then, lead us to them.” 

 

She nods slowly, keeping Miller as close as he could be. She was leading a group of strangers to the Eliguis ship, what could go wrong? 

 

A lot of things. 

 

She can’t think clearly, so she just walks in front of everyone until she can’t anymore. Clarke keeps her eyes ahead and arms tucked into her side, and she doesn’t see the Eliguis ship until Miller points it out to the group. She feels numb — either from walking too much or emotionally, she couldn’t tell the difference even when she tried — when she should be excited and happy to finally have a shot at being apart of something _great_. 

 

The introductions began, but Clarke slips away in the comfort of her own space and forgets the world for a few minutes. 

 

She takes herself out of the picture before they have a chance at erasing her into thin air. It’s self care, she forces herself to think that anyways. 


	2. we’d both end up drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke writes more letters, before and after speaking to Bellamy, a few new friends, and Murphy. She gets different opinions about her actions everytime. 
> 
>  
> 
> _“Don’t wait up, listen to me like before. You knew me too well back then.”_

Clarke was sitting cross legged in front of her bedroom window, too captivated by the stars in the sky to pick her pen back up and finish her writing for the day. 

 

She’ll admit, it was difficult to condense her thoughts into four sheets of medium sized paper...but she was getting by with what she had. It was helping her mind clear with an excessive amount of negative thoughts, as she kept her real feelings to herself when she was around others. 

 

The walk to one of the main cities of the new Eliguis people — they called themselves Dawn — was long and took a lot of energy out of her. She was still hung up on the name of Russel’s people and she hated that she knew why. After her experience with past commanders being so prominent in her life, to Madi becoming one, it was a lot to swallow to think that his people were _followers_ of something she just wanted to smash into the ground with the back of her shoe. To think that these people believed in an act that caused her so much pain. 

 

She lost people she loved. 

 

She _almost_ lost Madi. 

 

The memory of Raven under the AI’s control, how she tried to kill herself twice and how she was able to reveal how Bellamy felt about Clarke. It makes her throat go dry, the thought of him being devoted to her...it was a hard pill to understand why someone would do such a thing for her. 

 

It’s useless now, he won’t even look at her, much less still be devoted to protecting her. As much as Clarke wants to shake her head vigorously at the thought, she would do anything to keep him safe. 

 

That’s even if he doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. 

 

She doesn’t let herself cry, but instead looks out her small window again. It was a good sized room, the whole building something like an outdoor bunker so that everyone could stay together. She hates it. She hates being around people that visibly don’t like her, it was an emotional toll. It was past midnight, the sky was blue with white stars that flashed against the glass, and she gets lost in how quiet everything is. 

 

Clarke was one of the last to pick out a room to stay in — Russel claims that its only temporary until he can come up with an agreement with handing over land and supplies — but tried her best to stay furthest from the rest of her old friends. 

 

They were already gone to their respective rooms, picking ones on the bottom levels so she went for high ground and hung around Madi for most of the trip and when they got comfortable. The younger girl had gone to sleep in the room next door, saying goodnight only a few hours ago, and Clarke was alone again. _Like always_. 

 

She’s a woman who means the words that she writes down, so she meant it when she said that she felt alone in a crowd, a _civilization_ , full of people. 

 

The stars were always pretty, she loved looking at them. In Eden, she would spend hours gazing at them until the sun rose because she pictured her friends coming back home. It was easy to get caught up in a fantasy, to get lost in how beautiful something can be until someone realizes that you can’t see through them. 

 

That you can’t figure them out, you could only watch them from a distance and wait for the next day to see them again. 

 

Clarke figures that’s how her friends see her, how Bellamy sees her, but the only difference is that she’s just a person who wants to be seen. She wants them to understand how she’s doing, how she survived, how she still cares for them with every ounce in her body, but they wait until the next day to see her again with no words spoken. 

 

They wait. 

 

 _They wait_. 

 

She clutches her pain tightly to her chest, the realization hits a nerve and she’s fighting back tears. She isn’t worth seeing every night, not worth the attention, she’s not worth anything. 

 

Clarke flinched at her own thoughts, she grabs her third piece of paper and keeps her head down. She’s angry, and that’s really the only reason why she let’s herself cry, she just lets go and it’s like her emotions transfer onto the page and she starts to sob when she reads it over again.....

 

 _and again_. 

 

 

 _and again_. 

 

* * *

 

“I’ll do it.” Clarke assured, her voice was still rough with sleep. It was the first meeting of the day, and she was in a room with multiple people from each group. 

 

Including Bellamy. 

 

( _Why does he need to be here?_ ) 

 

“You volunteered last time.” Bellamy says as he rubs his face, he won’t look at her but she’s dying to _be_ looked at. “You don’t have to go.” 

 

“I want to,” She argues, “I’m doing this so you don’t have to.” 

 

It’s like they’re the only two people in the room, and it’s suffocating. She _knows_ it. 

 

He looks at her, with those big brown eyes that had her so deep in his thoughts and every mo— that was _before_ , Clarke looks away to forget it. His eyes widen and he bites his lip, “It’s important for all of us to know the landscape, if we’re going to live here.” 

 

Her voice is surprisingly soft, she can’t, she _won’t_ look at him. “What’s important is keeping as many people as safe as possible as we figure this out. _I’ll_ do it because it’s what’s right, and I won’t have any problem going on a mission with people who _know_ this place like the back of their hands.” 

 

Bellamy bites back a protest, his jaw clenched and his shoulders tense. He doesn’t talk anymore, but instead turns his attention to Russel. “My people wouldn’t be in any sort of danger if they leave with you?” 

 

Clarke feels herself exhale. 

 

“None at all.” Russel assures, gesturing his hand to Clarke. He looks at her, “I’m guessing it’s you who’s coming along with us?” 

 

“No, I want more peop—“ 

 

Clarke cuts him off, her heart beating rapid in her chest. “Yeah, it’s _just_ me.” 

 

Everyone else starts to whisper to the people next to them, clearly taking note that the meeting was over, but Bellamy’s voice is loudest. He isn’t talking to anyone but striding over to Clarke who is trying to pass through the room and leave. 

 

“Why?” He asks behind her, and it makes her freeze in place. She’s stuck between the door and Bellamy, and he won’t move until she speaks. “Clarke, _why_.” 

 

She licks her lips, afraid to speak. He hasn’t confronted her since before they went into cryo, he _shouldn’t_ be talking to her. Not after crushing her hopes about their friendship being restored because of their talk on the bridge, only to be forgotten about after they wake up. 

 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

 

“You know exactly what I mean.” He says with a hand on his hip, “What the hell was that?” 

 

“Why are you angry?” She bites back, interlocking her hands behind her so that he wouldn’t see her suddenly start to tremble. Of course, she had to ruin his mood. “I’m saving you a trip away from the people you care about.” 

 

“ _No_ , you don’t get it—“ He tried to say, but she cuts him off again. 

 

“I don’t get what _exactly_?” Clarke crosses her arms, leaning forward to only hear him gasp. “ _You_ have to trust these people if we have a chance at being treated as friends, I don’t need you to speak for me.” _It was all lies, she didn’t even believe what she was saying_. 

 

“Clarke, I—“ 

 

“Don’t.” She pleads, itching to just get away from him. “I don’t need an apology because it’s not needed, I’m doing this for everyone. I can handle myself.” 

 

He’s the one learning forward, getting close to violating her personal space but his glare is intense and only focused on her. “I know you can, of course I know you could handle whatever’s thrown at you. But it’s pretty hard for me to think that you seem to know that there’s  nobody who cares about _your_ safety.” 

 

She could feel his breath against her nose, how labored his breathing got because of the close proximity, and Clarke wants _more_. (She can’t have what she lost, what she never had to begin with.) Her voice is shaky, her throat burns, but she still manages to reply with a sharp tone. 

 

“You shouldn’t worry.” She says, “I _know_ there’s nobody who actually cares about what happens to me.” 

 

Bellamy’s hand rises and for a moment she thinks that he’s reaching to touch her arm, to tell her she’s _wrong_ , but it freezes halfway. He looks down and shakes his head, and Clarke knows what he’s thinking. _She’s right_. The little spark of hope dies in her chest, and she feels herself deflate and she sulks. 

 

“Let me go.” She pleads, her jaw is clenched so hard that she’s sure her neck veins are popping. “Bellamy, _let me go_.”

 

“Clarke—“ He looks up and she forces herself to look away when his eyes show a flicker of sadness, like the words won’t come out of his throat although he’s trying. “I don’t know how to get through to you, because you’re wrong.” He swallows hard, “We care about you, _I_ —“

 

“Let me go.” She repeats, cutting him off as the hot tears start to form in her eyes and threaten to spill. “ _Move_.” She looks at him, and he’s emotional too. For some reason, it doesn’t stop her. “What do I have to say? Please?” 

 

“I want to talk to you, I-I need to...” 

 

His words trail off as she backs away from him, he doesn’t look away. He wants to look at her now, and Clarke feels so awkward and out of place. This isn’t what she was supposed to feel like when he finally did this. 

 

“You don’t care.” She whispers, “I know that now, and it’s fine.” 

 

“Clarke,” He tries to bargain, he tries to fight her mind like its the last thing he’ll ever do. “That’s wrong, _you’re_ wrong and it’s not fine.” He steps closer, but she steps back again. “You aren’t fine.” 

 

“It took you long to figure that out.” She admits, and that’s when Bellamy is so shocked that he moves out of the way and she almost feels like she’s flying because that’s how fast she exits the room. “ _It took you so long, Bell_.” She finds herself whispering replies even when she knows that he wasn’t following her to her room. 

 

* * *

_Today was weird. It was the first time we’ve really spoken in over a hundred years (crazy, I know.) and it went horribly. I hope you know that you don’t need to lie to me, it’s not your fault that time changed practically everything for us. Maybe I lied before, I know you cared about me once. You cared about me so much that you listened to me and left me for six years so that you’d survive and have no idea if I did. That must’ve hurt for a long time, not knowing if I was alive or not. Now, It just makes me wonder when you stopped caring about how I felt  because I was the one calling you on a crappy radio for six years. Madi told you that, and I didn’t even get to explain myself. Maybe I’ll write about it someday and tell you why I continued to talk to you even when you couldn’t respond, but that’s something you probably don’t even want to know. My life is full of a lot of maybe’s so I’m sorry if this hurts you._

 

 _P.S — telling you to leave me behind and lead without me, was the hardest thing I’ve ever come to terms with. After I found Madi, it was me knowing that you couldn’t have the chance to see me so happy, so much like the old Clarke you never met on the Ark, ~~was what hurt me the most~~_. 

 

Clarke crosses the last line out, her mind unsure if it because she was testing the ink in her pen or if it was because she couldn’t handle her feelings being so strong. The weight doesn’t get lifted from her chest like the other nights where she would write her drowning thoughts. She lets herself feel sorry, she lets the sadness come rushing through her like waves so the memories start to come back too. 

* * *

She finds herself spending more time with the Dawn civilization than her own group of people. It was a habit to wake up early and gather food for herself and Madi, and soon enough, she had people to go with in the morning. She would constantly see patches of green in the distance, suddenly feeling a pull to get away from her room and away from her people, and she gets curious. 

 

Clarke introduced herself to a few women that she noticed walking past the front of their building, finally giving up her pride and asking for which way she could find any fruit, because she was getting tired of protein and grain. 

 

The shorter and younger woman introduces herself first, “I’m Celine, it’s nice to meet you.” She had a small basket hung over her shoulder. 

 

The older woman gives Clarke directions that’s pointing North, and offers to bring her along. “You could come with us if you want? It’s where we go everyday.” She smiles, “I’m Talisa.”

 

“Thank you,” Clarke takes a breath finally feeling like she could do something around here. “I’m Clarke by the way.” 

 

“One of the sky people?” Mavi asks curiously, stepping aside to let Clarke get in between her and Talisa so they could walk in sync. “The people who came from Earth?” 

 

“Yeah, I’m one of them.” Clarke says, a feeling of giddiness rises when she realizes that these people could be friendly and they would be the first real friends she’s made in a long time. “I don’t mean any harm though, I’m quite boring actually.” 

 

“We don’t do much either,” Talisa adds on, her brown hair was slicked back in a high ponytail as she adjusts her long sleeves. It reminded Clarke of the outfit she wore before she went into cryo, and it makes her smile. “We take care of our younger siblings mostly, they’re a handful.” 

 

“I have a younger girl to look after too so I get it.” Clarke replied, gesturing with her hands to reference to the inside the building. “I found her after the Earth died the second time, and she’s been by my side ever since.” 

 

Celine speaks up, “We should pick up the pace if we want to make it back before everyone wakes up. I’m sure your friends would want you back before then too.” 

 

Talisa nods her head in agreement, but Clarke just shrugs. “Not a lot of people pay me any mind anyways. It’s okay.” 

 

The two girls shake their heads and frown, “I’m sure _someone_ must care for you besides the one you spoke about.” 

 

 _Bellamy_. 

 

She thinks back to what he said, “ _You’re wrong...we care, I—_ “ 

 

Clarke didn’t let him finish, so she has no clue what he’d say. So she doesn’t reflect on it further, “There is someone, but it’s too complicated to figure out.” She sighs but admits, “He doesn’t talk to me much anymore.” 

 

“You care about him?” 

 

“It’s almost like I care too much.” The words come out of her mouth before her brain has a chance to realize what she’s saying, “I care about him way more than I should, but it doesn’t matter.” She dismisses the idea, “Not anymore.” 

 

Talisa disagrees immediately. “But your feelings matter, Clarke.” 

 

 _They do matter,_ “Not when everyone else doesn’t think so.” 

 

* * *

The first person who notices that Clarke was gone first thing in the morning on a daily basis, was Murphy. 

 

She had just checked up on Madi, closing her bedroom door softly because she was still sleeping, and her arm gets pulled and suddenly she’s facing a concerned Murphy who looks like he would pounce on her if she tried to get away. 

 

With his fingers gripping around her wrist, he speaks with a light smirk on his face, “You really just had to pick a room on the top floor? _Really_?” He’s teasing her, and Clarke tries to tug her hand away from his grasp. “Hey, I didn’t come here to interrogate you.” 

 

He doesn’t let go, he doesn’t even adjust his stance in front of her, he just holds her arm. She doesn’t move either, but stares at him with wide eyes. Her heart strings tear

 

“Why are you here?” She asks coldly. 

 

 

“I live here.” He says with sarcasm and he tilts his head, “So do you, and I barely see you.” 

 

“You don’t come looking for me.” Clarke bites back, having no control over her tone. “Easy.” 

 

“See that’s the thing,” Murphy replied with a surprising frown, when did he care? “We didn’t know where you were staying.” Clarke flinches, visibly not wanting to hear about the others but he caves in and adds on, “I haven’t seen you Clarke, _fine_ , I was worried.” 

 

“You don’t need to worry.” Just like her conversation with Bellamy, she’s itching to get away from people who used to care about her but don’t anymore. It was too painful to relive, “I’m just going out to get something to eat with a few friends.” 

 

(She gestured with her hands awkwardly and that’s what makes Murphy let go of her. She really didn’t want to explain herself though, not to him, not to anyone.) 

 

She hasn’t told anyone else about her friends, and it was a secret she wanted to keep to herself as long as she could. 

 

It wasnt a secret anymore, having told Murphy so quickly in their conversation, and that made Clarke wonder why she was letting him in so easily. 

 

“You made friends with these people?” 

 

“It’s not as hard as you think,” She argues, taking a step away from Madi’s door. Was he really asking her this? When he was one of the people who left her? “I wanted to know what life was like, so I introduced myself.” 

 

(Maybe it was always easy to talk to Murphy, she hadn’t done it enough.) 

 

“And the rest of us?” He suggests, a hurt look on his face. _She didn’t expect that_. 

 

“What about—“ 

 

“You know what I mean.” He said the same thing Bellamy did, and it makes a shiver go up Clarke’s spine. She needs to get away, she has to. “We miss you, I even miss you.” 

 

“There’s no _we_ here,” Clarke gestured between them with her finger, shaking her head. “You had plenty of opportunities to come to me and you’re just feeling guilty that I found other people who appreciate me.” 

 

“How long have they known you?” 

 

“A week.” 

 

“That’s not very long, try oh  _I don’t know_ , a hundred and thirty years.” He shrugs with his arms folded. 

 

“And what? I’ve known you for any longer?” 

 

“That’s _real_ clever, Clarke”  

 

She feels the anger rise in her chest and she says, “If you’re being so smart,” Clarke rants as she argues back in a harsh whisper because Madi is still _so_ close. “It’s only accurate if you subtract those hundred years because we were asleep, and another six because you were in space and I wasn’t, and then _maybe_.” She continues, stepping closer and closer until she’s in his face. “You’ll realize that I was always the one left out, always the one who doesn’t matter, and always the one _your_ family comes to when they need something. I’m not accepting any pity from any of you, because it’s too late for that Murphy.” 

 

Her chest is caving in, her breathing  hard and she can’t think or see straight with her emotions so high. She feels so many things; betrayal, sadness, longing and pining, regret and wishing for time to rewind. 

 

At least the world pretended to treat her better than this, and she would do anything to go back to that. 

 

She decides for him, “You should go Murphy, you’re probably needed somewhere.” 

 

“I need you to understand that—“ 

 

Clarke cuts him off, “I don’t need to understand anything. I know how I feel and that’s valid, I don’t need you twisting my words or my feelings so that I can forgive you.” 

 

“This is about forgiveness?”Murphy bursts, his jaw was clenched when he finally understood. His voice was raising and she could see his hard intake of breath, he’s trying to be calm. Just like her. “What do I need to be sorry about?” 

 

He looks her straight in the eyes and she feels like she can’t breathe, “Do I need to be sorry for wanting to be a decent old friend who just wants to see you and be around you? I hate to break it to you, but I know exactly how it feels like to be alone. I’m sorry that I wanted to help.” 

 

Clarke could feel the tears forming in her eyes, her mouth opens with no words left to say. She can’t speak.

 

“I’m not the only person who wants to see you, just thought I’d let you know and maybe you’ll form a sudden realization in that thick skull of yours—“

 

He pauses to shake his head in awe of everything she turned out to be, and he swallows hard trying to hold back his own emotions, “Just maybe you’ll realize that you could reach out to the people you care about, and we won’t hesitate to listen.” 

 

Murphy is almost out of Clarke’s sight before he turns around, starts to walk backwards, and his smile is formed and lopsided, “ _He_ cares about you, way more than he should.” _Bellamy_. “He doesn’t know how to reach out, but he cares and he’s _here_ for you.” 

 

Knowing that fact, Clarke starts to sob when she hears no more footsteps and she brings her hand up to cover her mouth as best she could. 

 

He was talking about Bellamy. 

 

He cares about her? Did he ever stop? 

 

* * *

_I’m running out of space. I don’t know if I mentioned it before, but I’m on the last half of the third sheet of paper that I stole from Diyoza’s notebook. She hasn’t noticed, but now I have one more page left. So I guess this means that I’ll have to make this short and sweet and write smaller than usual._

 

_Murphy confronted me today, and I can’t stop thinking about what he said. Do you still care? Have you stopped? When did you lose hope in my survival on Earth?_

 

_I have so many questions, not enough space and not enough time to ask you or anyone. Even if it hurts to know that you probably told him to talk to me, I still think about you every day. I miss you by the way, it’s not fun dealing with my demons on my own. I had you. But now I don’t. I hate not being able to tell if Murphy was telling the truth, because then it means that I don’t know like I used to._

 

 _I might as well call you a stranger, that’s how much I don’t understand you or the things you do. Bellamy, that fucking hurts. It hurts more than you’ll ever know_. 

 

 _I’m sorry for everything, I know how difficult I am. Its just hard to believe words sometimes. They’re just words. I’ve always cared about you too, if that helps you cope when you read this. I’m planning on leaving soon, going into the city most likely. Don’t wait up, listen to me like before. You knew me too well back then_. 


	3. I left foosteps in the mud so you could follow me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little back and forth between Clarke finding out Bellamy went after her, and how Bellamy found out about her letters. 
> 
>  
> 
> __

 

_I’m writing to you for the last time. At least for now. It’s only because this is my last sheet of paper, and I have no idea where Diyoza is in this place, so I have to pick my words wisely. I got an offer to travel into the city, by some new friends that I’m sure you’d appreciate their hospitality, to explore and venture out into the world we’re able to call home._

_So Bellamy....I guess this is it?_

_On the day you came back, I told you that I didn’t know why I still talked to you because it shouldn’t be normal for someone to speak on a pocket radio to another person for six years, every single day, but now I think I realized why. It’s the same feeling in my chest, and it’s the also another reason why I’m leaving_. 

 

_~~I lov~~_

 

Clarke crosses it out with hard strokes and takes a deep breath, she’s never actually written it out before. _I can’t write it, I think it’ll hurt the both of us too much. But I know that you’ll fill in the dots. you’re going to figure it out, you must’ve always known, now so do I_. 

 

_I already regret so many things, don’t make me regret crossing the word out because then that means I’ll see you again and explain. I don’t want to explain a century’s worth of feelings to someone who won’t understand, who doesn’t feel the same._

 

_I want you to be happy. I want you to enjoy what I couldn’t give you, and be better for our friends. They need you._

 

_Will you do that for me? Will you stay behind? Please just listen to me. The old Bellamy might wanna come after me but I know you’ve changed, you won’t do anything. Goodbye._

 

Clarke signs her name and she wipes at the wetness on her cheeks, it was the last line of the page and she looks down at the few pages she did have, filled with words she might never tell, her own heart on paper. She sets her pen down. 

 

* * *

“How do you like it?” Talisa asks, smiling wide when she steps into the bedroom to show Clarke around. “It’s what we could get you with the time we had.” 

 

“Celine got this for me?” Clarke asks, awe written on her face. “How?” 

 

The room was small, but bigger than the one in the bunker. It had two mediums sized beds only a few feet apart from eachother — one for her and one for Madi — and a lamp hung on the ceiling with a desk table in the corner. The walls were concrete, freckled with grey and white with age. Madi had gone off to talk with Celine who was next door, having been too fascinated with her array of bright clothes. 

 

(She missed wearing those.) 

 

“Russel has a soft spot for her.” Talisa says with a smile, “She’s his niece after all.” 

 

“You’re kidding.”

 

”No way,” Her friend laughs, “Why do you think we live in the city and not where we met you?” 

 

Clarke sets her bag down, both straps heavy on her shoulders. It wasn’t any different from any other day that people in the building would see her, she just left even earlier with a bag of her bare necessities with a sleepy Madi by her side. She sits on the edge of the bed, and it’s the softest thing she’s felt in ages. She hasn’t slept on a bed since her days in Eden, and the nostalgia hits her hard. “Good point, but I just wanted to thank you once again.” 

 

Talisa brushes her off, taking the stride to sit next to Clarke. She crosses her legs in front of her, “I know it must be hard to feel like you have nobody.” She pauses when Clarke sighs, “I also get why you wanted to leave the people who hurt you.” 

 

“I didn’t want to leave,” Clarke responds with her head low, “But I felt like it was the right thing to do.” 

 

“I just have to ask you something, so don’t get upset or anything.” Talisa asks curiously, her eyes narrowed on her friend that has a hesitant smile on her face. “Do you have trouble listening to your heart?” 

 

It’s like Clarke’s walls break, they come crumbling down. She doesn’t listen to her heart anymore, she had someone else to do it for her. 

 

“Why?” She responds, she freezes in her position. She’s afraid to look up at a girl who seems to get her, who could see right through her. “Why would you ask that?” 

 

“It’s just that I think,” Talisa hesitates with her words, wondering if she should really say it. “I think you pushed yourself away, Clarke you pushed your feelings so deep down inside you that you think you’re doing what’s best for everyone that cared about you, and didn’t think about what you want.” 

 

It’s silent for what felt like an eternity until Clarke whispers, “I don’t know....I don’t know what I want from all of this” 

 

 _She knows exactly what she wants_. 

 

“I think you know what you want, and _who_ you want to be around right about now.” Her friend responds easily, her voice low. 

 

What if she was the one who ruined everything? What if her people are trying to look for her? Will they think or suspect somethings wrong? Would Murphy tell Bellamy and the others about their conversation a few days ago? The questions wouldn’t stop. 

 

Clarke tries to shake her thoughts away but they stay, and she starts to tug at the ends of her hair. “Talisa, I came here to clear my head. Now I just feel more confused and—“ 

 

“And that’s normal when you’re going through something like this. You miss your friends, it’s okay.” Talisa assures putting her hand on Clarke’s shoulder so that she could feel grounded, “Celine won’t mind if you stay as long as you need. I’m sure of it.” 

 

“ _Okay_.” Clarke exhales a much needed breath, and closed her eyes tightly to relieve any pressure in her head. “Thank you.” 

 

“No problem.” Her friends gets up from the bed, and gestures towards the open door. “Should I grab Madi for you?” 

 

“It’s fine.” Clarke decides, she’s sure that the little girl wouldn’t mind extra company with someone that isn’t her caregiver. They’ve been around eachother too much, and she deserves free time. “She’ll come back when she’s ready.” 

 

How will Clarke know if she’s ready to go back herself? Does she want to? She has no idea. She watches as her friend leaves the room, and it’s mostly quiet unless she counts the mumbled voices coming from next door, and she lays down until her back hits the blanket. 

 

She stares at the ceiling, her eyes fixated on nothing, and that’s when it hits her straight in the face that she doesn’t have her letters with her. It was her decision to leave them behind, she left them folded on her bed back in the main building hoping they stay there. If they had to move, or drift away, or disappear, just maybe, she would want Bellamy to find them and read them. _Maybe_. 

* * *

 

It takes one week.

 

Seven days.  

 

That night, there’s a knock on her bedroom door that distracts Clarke from organizing her belongings. She had a few new clothing items, curtesy of Celine who passed them down to her, and she was glad. Nothing could ruin her mood she felt like she was getting back to normal to the person she was. The knocking continued a few more times, and she walks slowly to the door knowing it won’t hurt Talisa or Celine if she makes them wait a few seconds. 

 

“Clarke?” She recognized the voice of Celine, her face must be close to the door because she whispered her name like something was wrong. Usually when people whispered her name, so soft and urgent, it meant something was wrong.

 

 

She reaches for the door, and opens it quickly as if on instinct. She hears multiple voices, and she’s disoriented for a few seconds...As she uncurls her hand from the knob, she hears **one** voice speak clearly, she opens her eyes in shock and takes a few steps backwards because it’s too much—She hears it again in the distance, they had to be a few doors down, but she hears the familiarity of it all. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Celine lets herself into the room, talking so fast that Clarke is afraid she won’t catch her breath. She frowns deeply, she’s scared? “I didn’t know he was looking for you, I-“ 

 

 _He_? _Who was she talking ab—_

 

_It clicks._

 

“No, _No_ —“ Clarke stumbles, her face twists and she’s shaking her head back and forth. “He can’t, he can’t be here.” 

 

 _I told him to stay behind, why didn’t he listen? He must really not care about how much I needed him to stay away_. 

 

“It was Russel, he brought him here and I’m sorry, he’s family I can’t just say no and I didn’t know what he looked like when he walked in. He started saying that he came here for _you_ , Clarke I’m so sorry I—“ Celine rambles, and she runs her hands over her jeans repeatedly trying to calm her own nerves. 

 

Clarke could see that the room starts to spin, her throat feels dry, but somehow she still says his name clearly even when her mouth is agape, she can’t say anything but— “It’s Bellamy.” 

 

“Do you want to see him?” The girl clearly stressed with not knowing the full story. 

 

“No I-“ Clarke stutters, her legs hit the back of the bed, and she sits down at the edge, a common place to reflect these past few days, and she puts her head in her palms. “It’s Bellamy and, I just _can’t_. I don’t want to...I don’t want to see him cause I still have things I need to figure out” Like how she feels about him, how she can’t have him. She pauses because she’s breathing hard and she’s overwhelmed with emotion, “I told him to stay away and he didn’t listen.”

 

Celine reaches for the door knob, an unreadable expression on her face because her friend was so negligent of how she’s felt about the man that’s currently taking space in her small apartment. “Okay, I’ll tell him to go.” 

 

Clarke feels like she’s going to be sick and of course, he just had to pull her back into the group of people she wanted to forget, who she wanted to hate, and he’s here. He traveled all this way, just to see her. It affects more than she’ll ever allow herself to admit, She should hate him, but she can’t ever possibly do that. 

 

“ _Wait_.” 

 

She has no idea what she’s doing, but she can’t stop the words from coming out of her mouth. Her friend stops in her tracks, about to walk away but she listens. She speaks through dry lips.

 

“I need to know why he came.” Clarke hiccups, a crack in her voice when she pronounces the words. She really shouldn’t be saying yes, she shouldn’t want to talk to him. But she doesn’t want to regret watching him leave, she realized that she can’t do that again. It’ll hurt more than this, “Let him stay, I’ll be out in a minute.” 

 

Celine nods, and walks away. The door is left open, and Clarke fights the urge to close it and hide. 

 

One minute. 

 

Sixty seconds. It’s all she has now. 

 

Bellamy is out there, and he’s here for _her_. This can’t be real, she tries to convince herself, he can’t be waiting for her. 

 

She’s trying so hard, but when she rises from her bed with her hand rubbing over her face, it’s so easy to tell that she knows there’s no escaping this, no escaping _him_. She swallows hard, trying to bury the urge to cry, feeling the burn of emotions that want to surface, and she thinks she’s ready to talk to him. 

 

Bellamy wants to talk? She’ll talk. It’s about time they have a conversation. 

 

(A hundred and thirty one years late she may add, and the nerves fill her chest like butterflies.)

 

She really wishes she could be one right now, her head agreeing that she would rather avoid Bellamy at all costs, but her heart was shouting from the rooftops.

 

Shouting for her to just admit her sorrows to the one person who understood, to let go of her pain, but it’s not always easy. It’s never easy for her 

 

With slow steps, an aching heart and too many thoughts and emotions keeping her distracted from reality, Clarke starts walking out of her bedroom. The hallway closer than it was just a few seconds ago and that’s a good sign, right? It must mean that she’s going the right direction and walking towards Bellamy, if she could see or focus straight straight ahead. 

 

The voices get louder, although Bellamy’s is the only one she could hear.

 

* * *

  _One Week Earlier_

* * *

 

 **Bellamy** : 

 

“You couldn’t tell me this earlier?” He repeats for the second time, trying not to stumble on his feet when Murphy ushered him up the stairs. “You know, when I asked you the first time.” 

 

“I could’ve kept this information to myself,” Murphy replied, standing at Bellamy’s side as he showed him where Clarke’s room was. “I thought you would appreciate my intel.” 

 

“Well you thought correctly” Bellamy says with a sigh, the urge to see Clarke was strong and it’s like it took over every part of him. That woman was like his other half, and he’s lost her so many times. He doesn’t want that for them anymore. He just wants to fix things and move forward and forget about the things they did to eachother because he’ll always forgive her. “I do want to see her.” 

 

Murphy comes to a stop, and Bellamy gestures with his hand towards the door in front of them.

 

“Is this it?” 

 

“I thought you’d be trying to break the door down by now,” Murphy teases leaning on the wall besides the door frame. His friends were insanely stubborn and hesitant to jump into anything that could change things, he personally found change a good thing. “I’ve had to hear you talk about Clarke every other second of the day, and you’re quiet now? When she’s right in front of you?” 

 

“ _Hey_ ,”  Bellamy argues, he folds his arms, “I didn’t talk about her every second, I just miss her and didn’t know how to—“ 

 

“How to go to her?” Murphy finished, “Thats why you have legs you know? So that you could walk.” 

 

Bellamy hits his friend on the arm and smiles when he winced, “I also have legs to kick you where it hurts, and I don’t need to be reminded of the shit I’ve done to her.” 

 

It was true. His heart torn with the urge to see her in person struck with the fact that he should give Clarke some space since the last time they spoke to eachother. He didn’t like how they spoke to one another, the spite and anger in her voice was so clear that it made Bellamy vulnerable and shrink into himself. He wants them to work on building their relationship back up, he just wants to heal her pain. 

 

Murphy knocks on the door, smiling to himself like he knows what his friend is thinking. 

 

“Hey Clarke,” He says, ready to knock again when there’s no footsteps heard on the other side. “It’s your favorite person here.” 

 

“I doubt that.” 

 

“You’re just upset that it’s not you.” 

 

“I know it’s not you,” Bellamy teases again, his hands rubbing together because it’s a nervous habit. He could feel the nerves rise in his chest, but he doesn’t want to run. He wants to confront their issues, wants to fix what they’ve broken. 

 

“ _Clarke_ ,” Murphy calls again, he doesn’t tilt his head enough to show Bellamy but his brows furrow together. Should he be worried? “Come on, open up. I brought someone with me.” 

 

(Maybe it’s his own resolve for the blow out that was the last conversation he had with Clarke, but Murphy lets the worry spread.) 

 

“You’re gonna love him, I swear.” He adds on, acting like Bellamy was a stranger to the girl on the other side of the door, maybe she just needs a motive to come out? Yeah. Totally. “He really wants to see you, and he won’t bite.” 

 

“I’m not an animal, Murphy.” Bellamy rolls his eyes, but he leans into the door frame. His heart beating fast, “Hey Clarke, it’s Bellamy.” 

 

He just knows that Murphy must be making a face, an expression that would probably cause a blush on his cheeks to appear, so he shuts them. They close with ease, but he feels the words bubble in his throat with anticipation to be spoken and it’s like he’s right back in the conference room, with angry Clarke in front of him, a girl who was trying her best not to cry in front of him. He forces the words this time, _no more going backwards_ , he repeats in his head. 

 

“Murphy and I just wanted to check up on you,” Bellamy says, hesitant to knock on the door himself. He didn’t want to rush her, “It’s been a few days since we’ve talked, and Clarke, _I miss you_.” 

 

“God, you both—“

 

Bellamy cuts Murphy off with a glare and he continues, “I wanted to apologize for everything. Just let me in, I won’t push you, you could really just let me talk while you stand there.” 

 

He thinks it’s a good offer, the ability to just stand in front of her was satisfying enough. It would make his pleading worth it, like he was one step closer to mending their cracks. 

 

He would even stand outside her door all day if she let him, not minding that she was on the other side. He just needs a sign. Anything to make himself feel better about how they’ve treated eachother, to put them in a positive direction. 

 

“He could talk for a long time,” Murphy agreed, leaning against Bellamy’s side with weight. “I had six years of experience.” 

 

“Would you shut up?” Bellamy had enough, shrugging the other man off of him and he stands straighter. Trying to hide the smirk off his face, but the nerves replaced it again. He’s anxious to see her, but he would rather feel like this than feeling an empty space in his body that she could only fill. 

 

Murphy sticks his tongue out, but leans against the door instead. She still hasn’t responded, and he hears nothing on the other side. 

 

“I don’t think she’s in there.” 

 

He finally admits, knocking lightly against the wood. “Bellamy, she’s not inside.” 

 

“How can you know that? She could be asleep, I told you that it was too early.” 

 

 _Still no response_ , Bellamy leans forward and puts his ear against the door, the silence on the inside was enough to prove him _totally_ wrong. “Where could she be?” 

 

“She...” Murphy hesitates, but gives in quickly when Bellamy looks at him with wide eyes, suspicious of what his friend knows. “She goes out in the morning, to get breakfast with a few girls she met.”’

 

” _Wait_ ,” Bellamy steps back in shock and his eyes flicker from the bedroom door to his friend repeatedly, “She knows people around here? She goes _out_ for breakfast?” 

 

“Yeah, I just said that?” Murphy says with sarcasm laced in his voice, but he lets himself be serious again. The look that Bellamy was giving him was a threat, and he didn’t test the guy often. 

 

“So she’s gone?” 

 

“She’ll be back soon,” Murphy responds. 

 

Bellamy shrugs, still shaken by the fact that Clarke had left the building without telling nobody, that she made new friends without telling anybody, without telling _him_. He holds the bridge of his nose, trying to release his pressure points and he speaks, “So we’re gonna wait outside her door like freaks?” He pauses before shaking his head again after trying to think about it, “I’m already on thin ice with her, Murphy, _please_ —“ 

 

Murphy decides to check the lock, wondering if she ever did lock her doors but gasps when he clicks it open. _The door opened_ , and he looks to Bellamy in shock. His mouth is open, his eyes wide and fixed on the door and how he pushes it softly. 

 

Bellamy licks his lips, his brows narrowed on just how weird this was. Clarke might be sneaky and smart, but she wouldn’t leave her door unlocked to a bunch of people that she claims _don’t_ like her, just for a short period of time. That girl kept her personal life to herself, her experiences to herself, and he fully expected to be locked out of a place she’s called home for a few weeks now. 

 

“Murphy.” Bellamy warns, although curiosity gets the best of him and follows his friend into the room. The first thing he noticed was that the beds were made perfectly, the window was closed, and the desk chair was tucked in under the desk. 

 

“You followed me inside,” Murphy says with a laugh, admiring the space that surrounded him. “Bellamy, you really couldn’t help yourself could you?”

 

”This is weird.” Bellamy says after a minute, completely ignoring the remarks from Murphy, his voice like a whisper as his eyes naturally focus on the bed. They focus specifically on the blankets, one on top of the other, and he sees paper folded at the crease and propped up against the fabric. He gravitated towards it, striding over to grab them, “This is _too_ weird, even for Clarke.” 

 

“What’s that?” Murphy is suddenly next to Bellamy’s ear, standing over his shoulder looking at the papers in his hands. He squints to try and get a better look, even when Bellamy stays quiet. 

 

Bellamy starts to mumble words under his breath, it even takes Murphy multiple listens to try and understand, his friend too fixated on whatever was written because his eyes bulged, and he almost drops the paper from his hand. 

 

Murphy steps back, “Does that say what I know....What I think that says?” 

 

Bellamy sets the papers back down on Clarke’s bed, stepping aside to try to stop his chest from caving in. His heart wanted to lunge out of his chest, the realization sinking in. “We have to find her, _I-I_ have to get to her.” 

 

Murphy chokes on nothing, setting his hand out to steady him, “I was right?” 

 

“Those are letters, Murphy.” Bellamy admits aloud, his head feels like it’s spinning in circles. _Letters_. “They’re addressed to nobody else, but _me_. She wrote to me...” He feels something in his chest twist, and he forces words out of his throat again. “Clarke wrote me letters, and she’s gone.” 

 

The reality of it all comes crashing down. 

 

She’s gone. 

 

“Clarke wrote you letters?” Murphy repeats, still in shock. “It’s clear, Bellamy it’s clear as day.” His voice strong and filled with confidence, to his friend to make him catch up to his train of thought and he says the words for him, “You know she wrote about how she feels about you right? It’s obvious.” 

 

Bellamy agrees, nodding slowly because he feels dizzy after figuring it out. He doesn’t have to read them, he knows that, but he knows another thing. 

 

“I have to go after her, that’s the right thing to do?” 

 

“No.” Murphy says, but he exaggerates his hands in the air, “ _Yes_ , of course.” 

 

“Are you gonna read them?” He adds. 

 

“I have to, Murphy.” Bellamy’s voice is soft, and he turns back to folded letters that he placed back onto the bed. That’s his Clarke, the one he remembered, the one he lost all those years ago, those letters are emotions that he never got to console her from, that he never was told. He swallows hard a few times to rid the burning in the back of his throat, his eyes read over the words on the top line of the first page. Bellamy sits himself down and he doesn’t care, it didn’t matter if he isn’t comfortable, he just stays frozen in place. 

 

A shaky hand grabs the piece of paper and he tries to distract his emotions with various looks around the room, but he can’t help it, he doesn’t want to hold back how he feels. 

 

His thumb caresses the material, and it’s dumb because it’s just paper. But, it’s paper that Clarke wrote on, and that’s so important to him. 

 

He runs his fingers through his black hair repeatedly, as he reads the first line of her first entry. 

 

 

 _Dear Bellamy, I thought this whole ‘writing a letter thing’ would be easier if i wrote to you. But it’s not, not even one bit when it’s **about** you_. 

 

 

What has he done? How much has he hurt the one person who he’s ever cared for so deeply? How could he have done this much damage to Clarke, a woman who he wants back in his life. The letters are the first step, the beginning to amends. 

 

Bellamy is willing to do whatever it takes. 


	4. all we knew is that we cared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bellamy has no idea what to do about his failing relationship, he realized how much a certain person means to him, and how the Clarke and Bellamy conversation goes down with two mending hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A whole week. 
> 
> I’ve spent so much time writing this fic to make sure it’s not more than decent, and even neglected homework for this. But I wouldn’t trade the time I spent writing this for nothing. Thank you to everyone who’s read this piece of mine, it means the absolute world to feel validated and like I’m doing something right. If you want to yell or cry to me, find me on twitter @needymorley (my username varies a lot...the indecisiveness jumped out.) and do it. I hope you all enjoy the final installment of this child of mine, it’s been a pleasure.

_“How is it possible to feel like I'm alone when I have you a few feet away?”_

 

Bellamy clenched his fist, It’s his third time reading the same line over and over again and he couldn’t take it. He did this. He made Clarke feel alone. 

 

_“It's not like you worry about me anymore and I guess I should've expected that after six years. I messed up. It's my fault, I wasn't thinking when you came back to Earth.”_

 

 

All he wanted to do was scream that he did care, he did worry about what happened to her. She’s the girl that he....(Should he admit it to himself? Should be rid himself of the guilt?) he ultimately **loves**. It didn’t take a second thought, he knows the extent he’ll go to protect Clarke and he tests the limits every time. He doesn’t think around her either, always captivated by her mind and how it works. 

 

_“I realized I was doing what was right for you. I tried to save you so many times, at the Drop Ship, Mount Weather and even Praimfaya. Maybe it was for the best when I figured out that the more times I lost you, the longer it’ll take for us to act like we used to.”_

 

He remembers it all. Once in a while, the memory flashes in his head, it was of Clarke screaming his name as he got pushed into a tree with a hand grabbing onto his collar, the grounder not willing to let go. He’s pretty sure that everyone heard her plead, but it was like it never happened because a few seconds later he doesn’t hear her anymore. That was outside the drop ship, after she closed the door on him, and it took him a year to feel the exact same pain that Clarke felt when he escaped Praimfaya. 

 

And she didn’t die. (But she did.)

 

_“I hope you know that you don’t need to lie to me, it’s not your fault that time changed practically everything for us.”_

 

Six years. A hundred years. Time was the common denominator, something he couldn’t control even though he tries so hard to make more of it, just in case _._

 

_“....After I found Madi, it was me knowing that you couldn’t have the chance to see me so happy, so much like the old Clarke you never met on the Ark.”_

 

The more he reads, the more his heart clenches in his chest. Bellamy would’ve done anything to see her happy, to see a real genuine smile light up on her face. 

 

To see how the sunlight reflects against her skin, how she raised Madi into the courageous girl she ended up being, and how different she was. He wanted to experience it all, the peace and serenity....Bellamy wanted that with Clarke _._

He just wanted her _._

 

_“Don’t wait up, listen to me like before. You knew me too well back then.”_

 

He re-reads the last line, a sigh full of emotions passes his lips and it all feels like too much. She was right, she was always so insightful. Clarke knew this and she chose to rub it in, to make him feel terrible. Bellamy knew her like she was the other part to his conscience, she was his head after all. That’s why he wants to fix this _,_ because he wants that same trust to be built between them. He’s doing waiting around _._

 

_“The old Bellamy might wanna come after me but I know you’ve changed, you won’t do anything. Goodbye.“_

 

He knows he’s changed. He knows that indefinitely, but the so called, ‘New’ Bellamy would still drop everything and run to Clarke. That’s the one thing that hasn’t changed about him, because trust his words...time and age don’t do anything to two broken hearts who just want to be together. He won’t lose her again _, he can’t go through that again._

 

* * *

 

_“_ What are you doing?” Bellamy turns around to acknowledge the sudden voice but realizes it’s who he’s being avoiding since he found out about the letters. 

 

He breathes out, “Echo?” he says her name smiling a little. 

 

She stood in his doorway, hand hesitant on the frame as she looked around his bedroom which looked like a mess. Just like his head, he didn’t know what to do. 

 

“So, I spoke to John earlier,” She starts to say, her words trailing as she walks further into his space. “He said that you were planning on going after Clarke? Is it true?” 

 

Bellamy nods, and that’s when he feels the walls start to close in. He wasn’t thinking, how could he possibly think about anything else but Clarke? Was she safe? Was she okay? He could suffocate himself with thoughts and questions but that won’t help him escape the conversation with his girlfriend. His girlfriend that doesn’t like Clarke, who _isn’t_ Clarke. 

 

“Yeah,” He pauses, to recollect himself and hope he’s saying the right thing. “I’m going to get her, she left a few days ago with Madi.” 

 

He has to get an explanation. 

 

He holds in a breath when Echo appears next to him, her hand suddenly reaching into his backpack as she starts to pull out items that he’s packed. _Extra food and water, extra clothes, a spare radio that Russel had_...She sighs, “Is this a day trip or something? Are you planning to live with her?” 

 

“No, I already talked to Russel about the trip and it won’t take long.” 

 

Echo steps away, and Bellamy just has to follow her gaze. She won’t look at him but she speaks with disbelief. “But you won’t bother to talk to me.” 

 

The words get caught in his throat, and he ends up staring at her with wide and pleading eyes. She has to understand, she has to get why he has to do this. 

 

Bellamy shakes his head, resisting the truth that even he knows, “I’ve been busy trying to figure out what to do about Clarke, and my head is a mess and I’m stressed.... _Please,”_ He closes his eyes with force, “please don’t make a big deal out of nothing.”

 

Echo laughs, (in shock mostly) and her brows furrowed together because she couldn’t believe what she was hearing from the man in front of her, “Don’t make a big deal out of this? Really Bellamy? Should I just not care about what happens to you? Or how much time you’re putting to please that woman?” 

 

He turns around slowly, and he scoffs as he sets his hand on his hip. “You’re kidding right? You know how much she matters to me,” Bellamy doesn’t hold back, being honest was something he’s striving for. “You _know_ how much Clarke means to me, how we work together.” 

 

Echo wipes at the sudden tears on her face, “Of course I do, but I can’t understand why you still care so much about her when she’s treated you so terribly.” Through gritted teeth and a flat smile, “Do you even remember when she left you to die? In the bunker with your sister? She chose her daughter over you when you even claim that you had a connection no one could break?” 

 

(The realization stings, remembering what he always told her, what he proved on the Ring.) 

Bellamy’s heart is beating fast, the anger rises in his chest and he’s close to breaking. He hates fighting with the people he cares about, not knowing if they’ll ever resolve tension because of wasted time and stubbornness. But he couldn’t let someone, anyone, talk about Clarke the way that Echo is speaking about her. With such venom and anger that he knows he’s felt before, but he always saw the bigger picture. He _always_ understood. 

 

His jaw clenched, his emotions in turmoil as he looks at her. “You can’t talk about her like that, you weren’t there. Echo, you have no idea how hurt she was by my actions.” 

 

“She hurt you!” 

 

“I put the flame in Madi’s head” He reminds them both, “I put her in danger and Clarke hated me for it. She’s mad at me for a reason.” 

 

Echo exclaims, her hands in her air as she tries to think of how to get through to him. _She can’t_. “So you’re going to provoke her even more? Bellamy she doesn’t want to see you.” 

 

He doesnt agree, biting his lip hard in response. Biting back words he knows will hurt, “You don’t get it, I know her.” 

 

“You thought she was dead for six years and who was there to get you through it? To get you passed her? It turns out that you’re still hung up on her.” Echo snaps and her hands are interlocked to keep herself sane, “Lucky for you, she’s alive.”

 

Bellamy gives up. He can’t keep this up any longer, his shoulders slump and he locks eyes with the woman in front of him who’s close to tears, he cares about her. He grew to care about Echo, to love her flaws in all, but she doesn’t....she— 

 

“What?” Bellamy asks, his words sharp and cut deep. “Do you wish she was dead?” 

 

He waits. 

 

The silence on her end was telling enough. 

 

He repeats, “Do you wish she was actually dead? You just want me all to yourself, is that really it? You can’t stand that I want to be around her.” 

 

“That’s the problem!” Echo raises her voice and points a finger at him, “I’m your girlfriend, I’m the person you’re supposed to be around all the time and _love_. Do I need to apologize for wanting you to stop spending time with someone who put you in danger multiple times?” 

 

He responds quickly, confused and out of focus. He can’t focus, so many things were hitting him at once. “I do care about you, don’t question that.” 

 

She licks her lips, her chest caves with deep breaths but she asks him, “Pick one.” 

 

“What?” Bellamy flinched, “ _Pick one_?” 

 

“Me, your girlfriend.” She feels defeated like she already lost, her voice soft with realizing what she’s doing now. “Or Clarke.”’

 

He shakes his head vigorously and turns back to his bag, shoving things inside at random as he doesn’t need to play these childish games right now. “No, _No_ I won’t do it.” 

 

“Prove me wrong, Bellamy,” She begs him, and one of her hands grips at his bicep to make him turn around. He’s forced to look down at her, to look her in the eyes and tell her she already knew his answer. He can’t—. “Tell me you choose me over her. Can you _just_ —“

 

His hand comes up to rest on her shoulder and he squeezes lightly, he pulls her to his chest then. She clutched onto his shirt, and he speaks with dry lips and a heart that’s tearing apart piece by piece as he does. “I’m sorry, I’m _so_ sorry that I can’t answer that.” 

 

“It’s her isn’t it?” She asks, “It’s always going to be her.” 

 

She adds on, her head resting on his chest as he shuts his eyes almost painfully this time. Bellamy nods slowly as a response, “I have to get her back.” 

 

“It’s not always your job, you know that right?” 

 

His fingers pull her chin up to meet his gaze and he fights the urge to admit his true feelings to the both of them, to acknowledge how he’s always felt. “I’ll always care about you, you’re my family Echo.” (A ghost of a smile on her lips dies when he frowns) “None of that changes now, but Clarke and I....” He pauses to debate within himself, _just let go_. And he does exactly that, “I feel something special with her that I can’t feel with anyone else.” 

 

Feelings that he didn’t feel towards her. 

 

Nothing could compare. 

 

Echo pulls away, “I can’t compete with that, now can I?” 

 

“I’m sorry.” Bellamy whispered, “I can’t be the one to make you happy the way you want. Not when I have to fix my relationship with Clarke.” 

 

She starts to walk out the door, her back turned to him. The last time he would see her as his girlfriend, the last time he would pick anyone other than Clarke. 

 

Echo looks over her shoulder and tries to genuinely smile through her tears, but it was too hard. “Make sure that she treats you well, and make sure you treat _her_ good. Although I don’t think it’ll be hard for you.” 

 

“Will I see you before I go?” He asks, hopeful and wondering if they were even considered to be friends again. “What if there’s a surprise attack and I need tips?” He tried to joke with her. 

 

She looks down to the ground and smiles to herself, “Funny, but I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’ll see you.” 

 

It felt right to watch her leave, to watch her with no remorse or guilt for breaking up with her. It was good while it lasted but she wasn’t the one for him. It took him a long time to realize, but he feels lucky to know that the first girl he truly loved was alive, even if she was desperate to stay away from him. 

 

If it was up to Bellamy, he thinks that she left to avoid him, to avoid how she feels about him. He decides that he had everything packed, and closes the zipper with a heavy sigh. Clarke can’t avoid him any longer if that was her plan, because he’s going to her. 

 

He’s a man who knows what he wants. 

* * *

 

“You care about her a lot?” Russel asks as he tries to navigate through grass and trees. His attention on Bellamy, who didn’t know what to say. 

 

“Always have.” He replied swiftly, “That’s why I’m doing this.” 

 

The older man nods, but suddenly stops in his tracks. They still had a few miles to go, and Bellamy couldn’t afford to stop now. 

 

“I’ve been fascinated with how your people get around ever since you got here.” Russel pauses to scratch his chin as Bellamy stopped walking to listen, “I can’t help but feel like you’ve all experienced pain that can’t even be imaginable for my people.” 

 

 

“Well, it’s true.” Bellamy has enough pain in his memories to last a life time, “We were a bunch of teenagers sent down to Earth from living in space for our entire lives, and then we have to start acting like adults. It didn’t take long for me to realize how responsible I had to be in order for my friends to survive.” 

 

Russel’s eyes widen, “I could imagine what burdens that must’ve put on you.”

 

”It was hard, definitely.” Bellamy agreed as he gestured for them both to keep their pace, he doesn’t want to stop. He’s so close to Clarke, “We didn’t know what was wrong from right, but we tried our best.” 

 

“Was Clarke a leader for your people?” 

 

Bellamy pauses, her name being said aloud sometimes shocks him. The reminder that she was never dead to begin with — “Yes, she was.”

 

”You worked alongside her?” Russel asks wearily, taking notice of how lost Bellamy seemed to be. “It’s easy to point out the partnership you must’ve had together.” 

 

“ _We_ tried our best.” Bellamy adjusts the bag on his shoulders, “We just wanted our people to survive.” 

 

“I just have to ask you,” Russel says with his hands shoved in his pockets, walking behind the man in front of him. “There wasn’t a relationship between you guys? I just see so much potential, so much history between you both.” He cuts Bellamy’s words off when he wants to counter him, “Don’t tell me otherwise I know what a man in love looks like, and no matter how she feels, she cares about you too.” 

 

“Is this a good time to tell you how bad I feel for how we acted in the conference room that one time?” Bellamy says, running his hands through his hair. He shouldn’t feel embarrassed, but he can’t feel anything else when he thinks back to what happened. 

 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Russel assured, and that’s when Bellamy chooses to turn around. “With so much history between two people, it’s bound to explode sometimes. Clarke was hurting and you tried to get through to her, you can’t fix a woman who’s struggling with a single conversation.” 

 

“We used to get eachother, I used to understand her every move.” Bellamy admits, his mind running with memories of their younger days. “Now, it’s like I don’t even know her, and that hurts me so much. I want to know her, I want to know everything about her. Like for example,” He starts to name with a count of his fingers, “What her favorite memory was? How hard was it living on a planet by yourself? How difficult it was to live, how happy was she?”

 

Russel laughs, stepping over a large tree branch that was in their way. “I’m glad I could do this for you, help you out in any way I can.” 

 

With a confused expression written on his face, he decides to bring up the letters. The letters that Clarke had wrote for him, the ones that are folded neatly in the front pocket of his backpack. 

 

“She wrote me letters.” 

 

Russel gets taken back by the bluntness of his words, “She did what?” 

 

Bellamy clears his throat, feeling the same sting in his chest when he talks about them. “They explained how she feels about me, how she truly felt around everyone. Clarke thinks that nobody wanted to be around her willingly and they only use her for benefits. To read them after she left,  _It broke me_ ,” He hesitates, the vulnerability shining through. “Because I was always there for for her, a shoulder to lean on because I understood what she was feeling. We were a team, and it’s like we’re opposites, enemies even.” 

 

“You were willing to comfort her when she needed it?” Russel understood, “But she felt like she couldn’t go to you.” 

 

Bellamy sighs loudly, emotions drained and his heart open for the entire world to feel his agony, “ _I was always there_. I was one of the only people she could trust and I ruined it because I was scared.“ He rubs at his face, willing to do anything to feel something other than regret. “It’s my fault, and I want her trust back.” 

 

He adds on, “I want her to come back to our people, to our friends, to _me_.” 

 

“Then it’s a good thing that we’re almost entering the main land.” Russel states as he looks into the distance, and Bellamy could see it too. He looked on in awe as he saw everything, a few large buildings and smaller apartments with colors of green grass and the sunlight beaming down. “We don’t have much longer to go and it’s not far to Celine’s apartment.” 

 

“Who is she again?” He asks curiously as he turns to face Russel. 

 

“My niece, the woman that Clarke is staying with.” 

 

Then it starts to click. 

 

Bellamy nods, realizing how he was standing on the top of a rocky hill with his eyes squinting to see past the sun, his legs burning, and the nerves spread again. The last time he stood surveying a new piece of land, it was over a hundred years ago with Clarke by his side doing the exact same thing. He starts to breath heavily, not bothering to care or acknowledge the cause of the grin on his face. 

 

* * *

  _Present_  

* * *

 

 _ **Clarke**_ : 

 

Celine notices her first, the shadow of her body against the wall was enough notice to walk over to her friend. 

 

“You okay?” She asks softly, her hands steady on Clarke’s shoulders. “You could do this, you know he just wants to talk, no strings attached.” 

 

Clarke feels so disoriented, her focus span was minimal, and she can’t help herself when she tries to scans the room that she’s feet away from entering. He was in there, Bellamy was waiting for her to walk inside. 

 

“Yeah,” Clarke says, “yeah I’m good, I could do this.” 

 

“He’s a cute guy,” Celine admits, a smile bright on her face. “But I’m sure you knew that already if you—“ 

 

“He’s inside,” Clarke interrupts as she reminds her, feeling a warmth spread in her chest, she’s sure that she’s pink with blush. They don’t block any feeling of nerves that burst through her veins. The daunting fear, the struggle to push forward was there in the pit of her stomach. “Bellamy, he’s really here—“ 

 

“ _You got this_.” Celine repeats, and Clarke is grateful for the motivation because she needs every ounce of it. The one person she was running from, came running to _her_. “Come on, I have family to greet.” 

 

Celine takes Clarke’s hand and tugs her along, taking slow strides into the living room. She didn’t want to pressure her friend, but a little push for commitment with someone who cared about her wouldn’t hurt her, (hopefully). 

 

Celine walks in first, alarming Russel to stand from a leather chair to say hello to his niece. Clarke could hear what they say to eachother, the usual greetings and ‘how have you been’ was shared between them. She remembers that she hadn’t had a conversation like that with her own mother since they were reunited, and it forces her to freeze. 

 

She was one step away. 

 

That’s all she had left. 

 

It was one step closer to Bellamy. 

 

If she could just move her feet, to take her left foot to step forward and do the same with her right, if she could just believe in herself— That’s when she heard the silence, the shifting of positions and soft whispers, they were waiting for her to walk inside. Clarke takes a deep breath, already feeling like she could be sick at any second, but she takes a leap of faith, of anything she could grasp onto in that moment. She steps forward into the dim light of the room. That’s when she sees _him_. 

 

Her hands start to shake, and she sends a small smile to Russel and stands next to Celine who’s beside him. Bellamy stood on Russel’s right, and she heard him gasp. She thinks she can’t look at him, but he’s right there, and her conscience has a mind of its own and suddenly she’s searching for his gaze. 

 

She finds it fast, his eyes already locked on her’s, and it’s like the first time all over again. The same intake of breath and hesitant on the next step, the same brown meets blue, the same Bellamy and Clarke that didn’t go through Hell and back just to feel good about themselves at the end of the day. It was just them two in a room, looking into eachother’s eyes. 

 

Her throat is dry, a desert in search of water, and she can’t speak. She had nothing to say, so she looks away finally and it felt like a magnet pulling away from another. The force between them was strong, it tugged at her heart strings and she fights the urge to stare at him but it scared her because how can she have something that she never had in her life. She never had his love, his care willingly, not any of it. 

 

Celine tugs at Clarke’s hand, pulling her away when she sees how quickly her friend pulled away from Bellamy’s gaze. 

 

She whispered in her ear, “We’re leaving to give you two some space, they didn’t come all this way for nothing.” 

 

Clarke’s eyes widen and look down, “I can’t—“ She wants to convince herself that she should go, retreat back into her room and make Bellamy go back home but she _can’t_ do that either. She whispered back, “Fine.” 

 

She realizes that she lost the fight, and watched as Celine and Russel left the house. With her mind in overdrive, her thought process a mess, she starts to walk and pace back and forth. Trying to ignore the other person in the room as long as she could. _They were alone_. 

 

“Clarke,” Bellamy calls out her name and it’s enough to make her stop, she’s five feet away from him. He pleads,“We need to talk.” 

 

“I had hoped you didn’t come all this way just to look at me,” She says awkwardly trying to lighten the tension, as she turns her back to him. This whole conversation was intimidating, her hands were still shaking as she interlocked them. “This is a surprise, I didn’t think you’d come after me.” 

 

“I read your letters.” He pauses, and it was like Clarke’s heart was beating so loud in her ears that she could hear it in the silence that followed. Bellamy questions her, “Did you even want me to read them?” 

 

 _Yes, I wrote them for you_.  

 

“I wanted you to find them,” She shakes her head, deciding to just tell him the truth. “If anyone had to read them, It should’ve been you.” 

 

Clarke knows she’s twisting her own words around, and she hates Bellamy in that moment for knowing it too. She hears him take a step forward, she steps back, “I read them all multiple times, and I just need to understand.” He runs his fingers through his hair with a frustrating sigh, he’s close to his breaking point. He was always vulnerable about her, their window for opportunity so slim but open in expression how they felt. “I need _you_ to make me understand.” 

 

“The letters,” Clarke turns her head to the side, wondering if it’ll give her courage to just face her fears, to face him fully. It’s close, but not enough. “I wrote them to you like a diary, I needed an outlet for my feelings and since nobody bothered to talk to me—“ 

 

“ _Don’t_ ,” Bellamy begs, “Don’t give me that excuse.” He continued, “Give me something else, anything that will _make me believe_ you.” 

 

 

The room starts to spin, she couldn’t believe he was putting her in a position to be brutally honest with him.

 

“Bellamy I-“ She sighs, “What do you want me to say? I can’t tell you what you obviously want to hear.” 

 

“I’m right here.” His voice was gentle and she closes her eyes, afraid to look at him when she turns around. She does it anyways, and he noticed, “Open your eyes Clarke, you don’t have to be afraid of me.” _She’s only afraid of how she feels about him, nothing else_. “Don’t be afraid of us, I won’t be able to handle that.” 

 

She could feel it then, the overwhelming urge to open them and watch as he walked closer to her, she would’ve been able to tell when and exactly how he ended up right in front of her. She didn’t open them then, but she can’t fight it anymore when Bellamy’s hand is gripping at her forearm. They snap open, and she looks up at him and there’s no words coming out of her mouth. It’s her eyes speaking for her, getting lost in everything he was offering to her. 

 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Bellamy says in a low voice, his words clear and gentle. He wasn’t stuttering now, knowing exactly how he felt and how to say what he wanted. It wasn’t like before, “I want to understand you again, I want to know you like how I knew the old Clarke so well.” 

 

“It’s not that easy,” She whispers as she shakes her head softly, she didn’t need pity. She’s had enough of people trying to understand her, nobody got through to her nowadays. “Bellamy, we’ve changed.” 

 

“I don’t care about that,” He says, his hand curling around her wrist making sure that she can’t move away. “I just want to get to know the new Clarke, the same girl who radioed me for six years and wrote letters to me.” He pauses to cup her face in his hands, and she almost flinched, she tries to stop it. “I want _you_.” 

 

“No you don’t,” Clarke argues, putting her hands on top of his just to relish in his comfort and warmth before she pulls herself away from him. He didn’t know what was even saying, she was sure of it. 

 

“I don’t know my own feelings?” 

 

 

“We’ve always been complicated, out of place, out of time.” She rubs at her face that she could feel burn with a warmth that she’s trying to keep back, “ _Out of love_.” 

 

 

“Clarke,” Bellamy whispered, “You have to stop making assumptions about how I feel about you.” He reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out her folded letters and holds them up in the air, “If I know anything after reading these letters for these last few days, you’re scared of how you truly feel about me and don’t want to talk to me about it. I’m the one who’s trying to reach out to you constantly and you have the nerve to say I don’t care?” 

 

Her blue eyes are fixated on the papers in his hand, he kept them? She’s confused but still manages to reply with wide eyes, “I was trying my best to convince myself that you didn’t care about me so that I didn’t have to do exactly what we’re doing know.” 

 

“Does this scare you?” 

 

“You don’t scare me,” 

 

“Then what?” Bellamy exaggerates, his voice drained of emotion. He doesn’t want to give up on her, “You have to talk to me, tell me what you’re scared of—“ 

 

“I can’t,” Clarke begs, and now she’s the one who’s walking closer to him. She’s in front of him, eyes narrowed and arms stiff at her sides. “Bellamy, don’t make me.” 

 

It’s as if his eyes were a plead of their own, “I’m sure you can, I’m here if you need me.” 

 

“I don’t want to lose you.” She says after a few seconds, her lip trembling with sudden tears. “I can’t go through that again, that’s why I’m doing this.” 

 

 

“What do you mean?” Bellamy instantly replied, afraid to touch her. 

 

 _She breaks down_ , her head hitting Bellamy’s chest and she tries to gasp for air when she starts crying. It may worry him for now, but this is what he missed about them. He missed consoling her when she needed him, and he’s finally here. He’s right there, beside her. 

 

“I can’t lose you if I don’t know who you are, if I don’t try to get to know the new Bellamy.” She says, tilting her head to the side so that she could speak against the fabric of his shirt, “I could tell you’ve changed, I was scared.” She continued with a hiccup, “I was so scared of how I felt so I just pieced together those feelings with how isolated I was, and you’re with Echo so it wasn’t like I could talk to you.” 

 

Bellamy’s arm winds around her waist slowly, ready for any given sign to pull away and stay away, but nothing happens so he continued until he could grab at the bottom hem of her shirt. 

 

He feels so relieved, so happy in that moment that she let him do that and he says, “I was here for you, I was dying to talk to you.” He laughs, “Just ask Murphy if you need evidence.” 

 

It goes silent, Clarke hasn’t moved in his arms and he wants to ask why but she catches him off guard, “You should go back home, I—“ 

 

Something has clearly changed in her expression, she won’t look at him and she’s closing off again. She tries to pull away, both hands flat on his chest as she looks to the ground. 

 

“Hey,” Bellamy panicked, “What’s up.” 

 

She stutters, “It’s nothing, I just can’t do this anymore.” 

 

 _Something’s wrong_. 

 

Bellamy doesn’t let go of her, he wont do that again. After everything they confessed to eachother, she was willing to leave him? _No_ , he won’t let her, not if he has anything to say about it. For the first time, he does because danger isn’t knocking on their back door and they don’t have to decide what’s best for their people, it’s just them. 

 

“Can’t do what?” He begs, tugging her to closer to him. He tightens the grip on her waist, the other hand curled around her forearm to keep her grounded. “We were finally getting somewhere, don’t leave.” 

 

Clarke licks her chapped lips, everything just too much to handle. She could feel everything, the hand on her arm and his hold on her waist, and she realizes how much she missed being touched. She missed him, missed his soft touches and comfort that he could only provide for her. 

 

She looks up at him, mind blank as she lets herself ramble, “Bellamy, we can’t do this.” 

 

 

“Do what?” He repeats, so confused. 

 

 

“I can’t let you inside,” She takes a long and deep breath, trying to stop the shakiness in her voice. “At first, I wanted to try, I swear to you, but now it just seems so hard. We’re such different people, you have your family and I have mine. I can’t magically just mend into your friend group like six years didn’t pass where you guys were ripped away from me.” 

 

“What can I do?” Bellamy shakes his head back and forth, tears unwillingly form in the corner of his eyes burn he holds them back. “What can I do to prove to you that I’m not going anywhere, I’m not leaving you again Clarke.” For last minute approaches, his hand travels to the hollow of her neck and his thumb caresses her skin. 

 

“There’s nothing we can do,” She tried to sound truthful, but her pulse was beating hard with his hand— “Bellamy, stop.” 

 

He has a million words to say, but they won’t come out. Not when she’s looking at him with so much pain in her eyes, a past full of memories in her gaze that’s making him remember everything they’ve been through, and he gets lost in it. 

 

“I broke things off with Echo,” He manages to say dazedly, his gaze still searching for any resistance on her end of the conversation, “I couldn’t be the one to hurt her anymore, not when I had to—“ 

 

“Wait,” She stops him, “You did what?” 

 

He nods at her surprised expression, he was waiting for that reaction. “I have to fix things with you, and I couldn’t love her the way she wanted me too.” 

 

“That’s stupid,” Clarke pushes herself away suddenly, staring blank at the man in front of her and her hands wipe at the sides of her shirt to rid herself of the feeling of his hands on her. _He did what now? “_ Why would you do that _?”_

 

 

“After reading your letters, I realized that I wasn’t happy.” Bellamy admits, every other word he’s walking closer to her. He doesn’t stop until their feet are touching and she has no where else to go, “I wasn’t happy because we weren’t talking at all, we were avoiding eachother and I didn’t want to fight.” 

 

He adds on, “I never wanted to fight with you, but were both so stubborn that it’s bound to happen.” Russel told him that and he’s glad he remembered, “I wasn’t happy because I didn’t _have_ you back in my life.” 

 

Bellamy extends his hand out, wanting her to interlock their fingers together so she felt like she was initiating everything they did. Her gaze switched from his face to his hand multiple times, and he’s seconds away from pulling back and speaking some more, anything to pull her back to him both emotionally and physically, but she reaches out first. She pulls at him, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers but the only thing she’s worried about is if he could feel how nervous she was. 

 

She’s the one who reached out to him this time, and she shakes her head when he attempts to move any closer, wanting set boundaries for what she’s about to do.

 

She wants to start over. Bellamy means too much to her to not at least try to amend their relationship, and see where that takes them. It’s worth a shot. (Its worth a thousand shots, but who’s counting? She can’t concentrate when he’s grinning at her.) 

 

 _A do-over_. 

 

 

 _A fresh start_. 

 

A new beginning for them, as just Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin. Two people who have a ton of history together, who knew eachother like the back of their hands when they were younger, who lost the other because of time and war. They were two people who wanted to reconnect, wanted to love eachother with every fiber of her body. 

 

She wanted to do that with no excuses and no obstacles, just a love that bloomed like a rose in a bright field of sunlight and green. 

 

Clarke adjusts her stance, standing absolutely still and she stares at him with soft eyes. She couldn’t believe he was here, willing to do anything to get her back. If she’s pretty important to him, then she feels the exact same about his presence in her life. 

 

She squeezes his hand, trying not to smile when he won’t walk the distance between them. _He’s listening to her_. 

 

It’s at her pace, anything to make her feel comfortable with him again. 

 

“I’m Clarke,” She says with a smile, she squeezes his hand tightly doing a good job — in her opinion — at keeping her emotions at bay, feeling dried tears on her face. “It’s nice to meet you,” 

 

Bellamy can’t keep the grin off his face and he steps a fraction closer, holding tight onto the feeling of gratitude and true happiness. He tilts his head knowing he could play along just fine, “I’m Bellamy, and likewise. I can’t help but feel like I’ve seen you around?”  

 

The teasing, the banter, she missed it all.

 

”In another life, I bet.” She thinks of meeting him for the first time, how annoyed she was with another teenager for showing her how to lead, how she ended up trusting him with her life on many occasions. How she fell in love with him, how she lost him, how she **still** would do anything for him, even after everything. Even after this. “We would’ve been good friends.” 

 

 

Clarke let’s her hand fall from his grasp because he kept fidgeting, he couldn’t stay in one place, aching to just swoop her into his arms and lift her feet off the ground. _She’s gonna let him do it, she just has to_. 

 

They meet halfway, and it’s everything she wanted and more. Her arms wrap around his neck and she doesn’t want to let go, not now or ever, and she feels safe with both of his arms holding her tight around her waist. She doesn’t say anything yet, knowing that both of their eyes are closed with a feeling they haven’t been able to describe in ages. 

 

Bellamy stays true to his thoughts, lifting Clarke an inch of the floor and hugs her even tighter. _Hugs were their thing_ , it was a written fact in a book somewhere he was sure of it. This is why he fights so hard for her, because of moments like these. A moment where it’s just them and nothing else, and their hearts open to the other in case they needed to talk about anything to feel like someone was there for you. He was that person for her and always will be. 

 

He sets her down, hands trailing up her sides and he lets her play with a few pieces of hair that messily framed his forehead. They look at eachother for real this time, soaking in everything that they feel, how they’ve always felt, and how they make eachother feel. 

 

He exhales, “I missed you, I miss you so much.” 

 

They were both breathless with emotion but to name it, it would be love. 

 

She doesnt let herself cry, “I feel the same, I don’t want to let you go anymore and especially not now” 

 

Clarke blushed, and she lets him see and feel it against her cheeks. He bites his bottom lip to keep from chuckling, “It’s simple, you _don’t_ have to” 

 

(Little did she know, she would never have to let Bellamy ever again. She figured that the Earth was giving them a break to finally be together, a _life-long break_ perhaps. Yeah, that sounded great for her.) 

 

* * *

 

“I remember the day when I found out you were alive,” Bellamy says suddenly, making Clarke turn around and face him. It was quite hard, having been wrapped in his arms for an hour already. Madi was fast asleep, having spent the day with Talisa only to come back to a surprise visit from Bellamy and spend hours talking to him. 

 

Now, hours have passed into the night and both of them have been hesitant on what their relationship means. It didn’t mean they could move away or keep away from eachother, because that would be impossible.  

 

“Really?” Clarke smiles, and she reaches for his hand again — she still isn’t used to being allowed to hold him whichever way she wanted — and traces his knuckles. “Madi found you though?” 

 

Bellamy couldn’t believe that he was in this position, no other place he’d rather be in this planet of two suns, “Yeah she did, but it was probably one of the best days of my life.” His **head** leans ontop of her’s, and she leans into his chest, into his **heart**. “Finding out you were alive was some of the best news I’ve gotten and I hadn’t felt that happy in so long.” 

 

She can’t help herself, she brings his hand to her mouth and she kisses the back, “Me too, I spent so much time waiting for you to come back that it felt like it wouldn’t happen.” 

 

“Well, I came back.” Bellamy states with a light smile, too happy to reminisce on the past when his future is right in front of him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

 _He was right_. 


End file.
